One Meister is Enough!
by shiver14
Summary: A young busker arrives in Gotham hoping to change the world, but it is soon discovered that her voice possesses similar qualities to that of a certain NPH villain (Hint: it's the Music Meister.) Will Meg use her powers for good or evil? Will Batman choose to help the city or a girl he barely knows. Disclaimer: I own nothing, just a fan writing a fiction.
1. Chapter 1

"Enjoying yourself Batman?" asks Robin, waving to some pedestrians.

"I can't believe you convinced me to do this."

"It's important we get to know the people of Gotham and that they get to know us. What's a better time for that then the fair?"

"The middle of the night when nobody's around to see us?"

"Oh, you kidder! Come on; enjoy the lights, the atmosphere! If you're good, I'll buy you a corndog."

"Let's just get this over with."

They continue to walk through the crowd, passing awestruck children holding out paper napkins and pens. Robin stops to sign a few while Batman remains coolly indifferent. As they draw closer to the center of the fair, they hear a faint but alluring sound.

"Where's that coming from?" asks Robin.

"The center of the fair I suppose. Are we almost done here? I feel claustrophobic."

"Yeah, yeah, let's just check it out," responds Robin, following the music. Sighing, Batman ambles through the thickening crowd. He struggles to the front of throng where Robin stands.

"Come on, we should get going before-" he stops when he sees what the crowd is transfixed on. A girl of seventeen or eighteen years old stands on the street holding a guitar. She begins to sing and walks towards an older man holding his wife's hand.

"Hey sir, could you spare some change I need to get out of here.

Need a ride, I gotta fly if I'm ever gonna reach this big world's ears.

Ma'am, you look lovely, would you help with my song?

All I want is for the people of our green earth to get along, so

Spread the word and spread the love, could you spare a few cents for me?

All I need's a moment of your time and a buck or two to get me started

Will you listen to my sooong?

If you feel it, sing alooong

And help me on my way

Today."

She begins to walk around, balancing a hat in the crook of her arm while simultaneously playing the guitar. Everyone she passes places a few dollar bills into the ball cap.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" asks Robin, swaying slightly.

"Surprisingly yes. A little too beautiful though, don't you think?" Robin was too busy searching for his wallet. As she sees the two of them, she starts singing again.

"Evening Mr. Batman, how does it go?

Could you find it in your heart to let me know?

Have I been doing well? Am I alright?

Or am I just another busker on a Saturday night?"

"No, you sound lovely, miss. Um-" somehow, he found himself reaching for a pouch of money on his belt. Robin was already emptying his into her hat. Shaking his head vigorously, Batman cleared the fogginess that had crept into his mind. Understanding sank into him as he rushed forward before becoming spellbound once more and knocked the guitar to the ground and spilling the money on the cobblestones.

"Hey, what's the big deal?" asks the girl, upset. She goes to collect her earnings off of the ground only to be stopped a Batman-sized boot.

"This money will be returned to these patrons."

"Why? I earned it, I'm keeping it." He takes the fifty dollar bill from her hand and waves it in front of her face.

"You're good, but not that good," he turns to the confused crowd, "all of your money will be returned momentarily." Robin hurries over.

"What happened, Batman? I feel hazy."

"I believe this little busker learned the ways of our friend the Music Meister."

"Who?" ask the two in unison. Batman motions for Robin to continue to pick up the money off the ground as the crowd begins to disperse. He takes the girl to the side.

"What's your name?"

"My name's Meg."

"Last name?"

"I don't have one."

"Where are your parents, Meg?"

"I don't have those either. They abandoned me when I was ten so I started to travel and sing on the streets to get food and stuff. I'm saving up for a new sleeping bag." She pointed towards a small backpack alongside a ragged blanket.

"Where'd you get the guitar?"

"A lady gave it to me. Now would you mind telling me what's going on?"

"Have you ever heard of a man called the Music Meister?"

"No. what kind of name is that?"

"Not important. Anyways, he has the ability to hypnotize people to do his bidding and nearly took over the world."

"Okay, that's cool and all but-"

"No Meg, not cool. Several people were almost killed."

"Yeah, like I said, cool and all, but what's it got to do with me?"

"You have the power to do the same, to influence people to do whatever you want."

"What? No, I could never do that!"

"Hey, Batman?" calls Robin, approaching quickly, "There's a little over six-hundred dollars here."

"I just thought I was appealing to their better nature. I was controlling them?"

"I'm afraid so Meg. We're going to have to appeal to a council to find out what to do. Robin, would you return the money to the people?"

"Fine. See you later." Meg gathers her things, including her guitar, broken at the neck.

"I'm sorry Meg, I'm sorry you've been burdened with this."

"I could still use it to do good things, you know? Make bad guys into good guys, stop bank robberies and all that jazz."

"That's for the council to decide. But I promise, I won't let anything happen that shouldn't." he gives a rare smile that she fights to return, though a tear rolls down her cheek.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The court room is silent as the last of the jury trickles in.

"Now," begins the judge, "the preliminary council has ruled that the case #34596201 be taken to court to decide what is to be done with this threat to our city."

"I'm sitting right here!" calls Meg from the defendant desk.

"Ahem," coughs the judge, shuffling a few papers, "This court of the People of Gotham vs. Miss Meg is now in session. Mr. Carson, the floor is yours." The famous city lawyer steps out onto the floor. Meg squirms in her seat, not liking the look of the smarmy attorney. Or the various women sitting behind her wearing "Will Carson" pins.

"I would first like to request that the defendant not be permitted from speaking at any point during this trial."

"What?" cries Meg, outraged, "Why not?"

"Your honor, this girl has the power to control people's minds when she sings. Would you like her to influence the jury?"

"Objection!" cries Meg, "I have requested to represent myself before this jury. I need to speak." Carson walks over to where the judge sits.

"We'll break for a short recess to discuss what measures of protection are to be taken against this threat." With a bang of the gavel, the crowd begins to disperse. Meg stands up, shaking off the guards attempting to take her back to her cell and walks quickly to Carson.

"What was that all about? I am no threat to the people of this court; I deserve to be treated with some respect."

"Your Honor, if she is allowed to represent herself, I request that an ankle monitor be in place. If one musical note comes out of that mouth, it will instill a powerful knockout serum."

"You have access to such a device?"

"You're considering it? I am still a human being!"

"Right here in my briefcase."

"I am inclined to agree with you Mr. Carson."

"Do I get a say in this?"

"Miss. Meg, it is merely a precaution to be taken to keep some of the jury members at ease. Please?"

"Fine. I'll agree to your demoralizing and idiotic, HEY!" she cries out suddenly as Carson snaps the monitor around her ankle.

"Very good. We'll continue tomorrow after you have a chance to adapt to these new circumstances." Meg scowls at the judge as the guards take her by the arm and escort her toward the door. They are stopped by Bruce Wayne.

"Hello, Meg?" he greets her, "My name is Bruce Wayne. I'd like to help you with your case."

"You don't even know me. Aren't you afraid I'll try to take over your mind?"

"No. I trust you. I swear, I'll help you prepare your defense. I won't let anything happen that shouldn't." she looks at him, confusedly.

"You remind me of someone Mr. Wayne. I can't quite put my finger on it, but-"

"Hey, we've got to be at the holding facility before six. Get a move on," grumbled one of the guards.

"I'll come with you," says Bruce, smiling. Meg smiles back. The four step out onto the steps of the courthouse and are immediately swarmed with press.

"Meg, what do you intend to do with your power?"

"Well, uh-"

"Are you related to the Music Meister?"

"What? No!"

"Do you plan to take over Gotham?"

"Of course not!" she sings involuntarily, "I've no plans for this city; I've no quarrel with this town!

Would you all just let me be?

And take with you this vicious crowd!" The last note pierces the air and leaves the reporters transfixed and confused. Meg opens her mouth once more, but soon faints as the serum enters her bloodstream. She begins to fall forward and Bruce, the only one not spellbound, catches her

"No comment," he says into a microphone held by a starry-eyed man. He leads Meg to the waiting car as the guards snap out of it and follow suit, taking the shotgun and driver's seat. Bruce lays Meg down in the back seat and buckles her in, much like a father. Then, closing the door to the oncoming throng of newly woken reporters, he adjusts his earplugs so they sit more comfortably. One had almost fallen out and heaven knows what could have happened then.


	3. Chapter 3

Meg slumps in her seat, disliking Carson more and more by the second. He talked about her like she was a senile dog! She was just picturing tearing the bastard's head off when-

"I would like to call Meg to the stand," he says, pointing at her. Meg represses a groan and walks to the desk beside the judge's.

"I swear to tell the truth or so let me be smote by the hand of god off of this green earth."

"No need for the jokes Miss," says the judge.

"Sorry your honor, I'll try to repress myself."

"Ahem," coughs Carson, "so, Miss Meg, may I call you Meg?"

"Why does it matter what you call me when you obviously don't understand the distinction between a human being and an animal?" that got a few cat calls and a fierce pounding of the gavel by the judge.

"Miss, please. Control yourself or I will have you ejected from this courtroom!"

"Fine, I'll cooperate. Continue please Mr. Carson."

"Meg, how long have you known you possessed the ability to control others?"

"Since last week when Batm- er, a friend showed me what I had done to the good people at a local fair."

"Batman? Have you attempted to control this staple of Gotham as well?"

"First of all, I never 'attempted' to control anyone. I didn't know I had the power. Second of all, Batman was immune to the dangerous effects of my voice. And thirdly, he was the one who suggested the council meeting and trial and I agreed willingly because I want to be accepted amongst these people."

"Do you really? Why do you sing Meg?"

"I've been on my own since I was ten. For six years, singing on the street has been the only way I've been able to earn any money."

"Earn or steal?"

"I assumed I was earning it, appealing to the kindness in people's hearts. Now that I've learned I may have been controlling them, I feel really guilty about it."

"What good do you think could come of allowing you to keep your powers?"

"I think I could turn villains into good guys, help resolve global conflicts and-"

"How could we guarantee that you wouldn't try to take over the world?"

"I guess you'd just have to trust me." Carson turns to address the jury.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in the opinion of this attorney, this girl's power is too dangerous for her own good. The only safe solution would be an operation to essentially take away her voice."

"What? That's ridiculous!"

"No further questions."

"Meg would you like to make a final appeal to the court?" asks the judge.

"Yes I would," she stands and faces the group of twenty or so people and tugs nervously on the collar of her shirt. Bruce silently gives her a thumbs-up. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, um, hi. I recently discovered I was blessed with a gift, the same gift as a notorious villain. But where he wanted to use it for evil, I want to use it for good, I want to help this world so there's no child left on the streets. I want to live a normal life, like you. I am you people. I'm just trying to make a mark in this world like the rest of you. If you give me the chance, I won't let you down. But if you are afraid and wish to dehumanize me like Carson over there, then vote for the operation and my detention. I can't change your minds. You say that I can with my voice, but I'm not strong enough, I have no desire or need to control people. If you are afraid, then take away the one thing I have. But if you trust me, let me be free and help make the world a better place. That's all." She goes to site down. Bruce whispers in her ear.

"Good job." He pats her shoulder.

"We'll take a recess while waiting for the jury to reach a verdict," the judge bangs his gavel. Meg stands and turns to hug Bruce.

"What's going to happen to me?"

"I don't know."

"You won't let them take away my voice, will you?"

"I'll do my best Meg."

"Do you think Batman's watching? Do you think he even cares?"

"I know he does," says Bruce with a smile.

"I swear, that grin is so familiar, I can't place it-"

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" asks the judge.

"That was fast," says Meg, turning to face the judge.

"Yes your honor, in this case of the People vs. Miss Meg, we find the defendant," Meg holds her breath and clenches her jaw. "Guilty on all accounts."

"Alright, operations will go forward as scheduled for next week," says the judge, "court adjourned."

"Wait! Hold on a second, you planned on my being guilty? There's an operation date set? A doctor? Are you kidding me? Was this trial just to make the little girl happy or the press?"

"Please, Meg," says Carson, walking over, "it's for the best."

"Shut up asshole. So, you were humoring me? It didn't even matter what I was going to say, did it? You had already dug my grave."

"You're digging it deeper young lady. If I were you-"

"No, if you were me, you'd be pounding that gavel so fucking hard it would-"

"Meg," Bruce put a hand on her shoulder, "It's over for now."

"Were you in on this too? Another lie to keep the kid happy?"

"There doesn't seem to be anything I can do. They can't enact a punishment like this without permission from very high up. Even I can't fight it. I'm sorry."

"You're not even going to try. You fucking liar!" she lunges at him angrily, only to be stopped by the guards from before. "You will pay, all of you will pay!" they drag her outside to the car. Sighing Bruce picks up his briefcase and exits as well.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Meg is walked down a hallway in the Arkham Asylum by six guards. They pass silently by all sorts of villains from the Mad Hatter to Poison Ivy. They lead her to a section marked "Soundproof." There was only one other occupant whose cell was situated directly across from what was to be her own.

"Is that him?" she asks.

"Yep, the Music Meister." The man sits on his cot sullenly, holding a pencil and pad of paper and writing something furiously. He glances up to see the newcomer. Meg scowls at the man who ruined her life. How dare he be so inconsiderate? And damnit, she couldn't even spite him for being ugly. He's not as old as she had expected only nineteen or so. Still she scowls and remembers to ask for a pad of paper. One guard opens the door and takes Meg inside.

"Since my voice is going to be taken away and I'm in a soundproof room, do you think you could remove the ankle monitor?" the guard hesitates, but then, deciding there was no real harm since he was wearing ear-plugs anyways, he sits her on the small cot and undoes the clasps. Pulling it away slowly, he sees many small needle marks and pussy, swollen bumps. "Guess I'm allergic." She says with a smile. The guard makes a disgusted face. "Think you could get your hands on a pad of paper and a pencil like that guy?"

"Sure." With that, the guard leaves, locking the door behind him. Meg wanders around the barren cell. Padded walls, a large Plexiglas window, perfect for seeing that no-good asshat 24/7, a small bed, a toilet, a door with a slot, presumably for food. All in all, better than some of the dumps she's stayed in. She glances through the window nonchalantly only to see the Meister holding up his pad of paper. He has written: What is your name? She responds by flipping him the bird. He mocks pain and clutches his chest, doubling over dramatically. Meg is not impressed. He scribbles again: "Why are you here?" Meg just sighs and pantomimes writing things down. Then, as if on cue, her pad of paper and pen slide under the door. She picks it up and writes: "My name is Meg. I'm here because of you." The Meister gives a puzzled expression and even draws a large and elaborate question mark. She responds sighs and sits down on the bed, not wanting to write everything down. Meister, seeing her frustration, points to the air vent above his bed. Meg looks up and sees a similar vent above her own bed. The Meister pantomimes conversing between the two of them through vigorous back and forth arm movements. Meg rolls her eyes and lies down, not wanting to talk to the man who ruined her life.

She closes her eyes, wanting simply to forget the past week. She shifts around the lumpy mattress, trying to get comfortable. She can't take it anymore, after all of one-and-a-half minutes of silence, her eyes flash open and she stands up on the bed and reaches for the vent. Flipping it open, she is hit by a strain of music. Stunningly beautiful music. She turns around to see the Music Meister singing in his room. Somehow, the voice and the man don't seem to match up. But the more Meg listens, the more she feels how right it is.

"_Trapped alone in here for months,_

_Nobody seems to care for me_

_Am I just fodder for the moths?_

_Is this my only legacy? _

_Who are you who comes in the night? _

_And will you be my guiding light?_

_Sweet Meg, will you lead me home tonight?" _

"Wow, that's beautiful sir," she says honestly, a bit star-struck as well, "I wish I could be as good as you."

"Thanks, I-" he stops dead, "wait, you're not hypnotized?"

"No. I guess I'm not. Weird."

"Very," he says thoughtfully, "why not?"

"I-I'm mad at you," she says, remembering her original mood towards this man, "you ruined my life!"

"Hmm, how?" he asks, bemused but still genuinely curious.

"I have your powers, maybe not as strong. I guess I'm so accustomed to the pitching of my voice, that yours has little effect on me. I can control people, maybe just influence a bit, but still take away some of their will power."

"That's a bad thing?"

"Well, in some cases it's not, not really, but Batman showed me what I had done to some people and I wanted to know if I was within the law. So, I was put on trial and the court, fearing for their safety thanks to you, decided to send me to the operating room in a week and take away my voice."

"So, let me get this straight, you let Batman take you to court?"

"No, he was helping me, he promised not to let anything bad happen."

"What did he do when he found out you were getting thrown in here?"

"Well, he never contacted me again after getting me set up with the preliminary council. He still hasn't."

"That seems like a shitty thing to do to such a sweet thing."

"Hey, if it wasn't for you, I-"

"No," says the Meister, banging his fist on the glass, "if it wasn't for Batman, you wouldn't be here. He's the one who turned you in. I was just trying to make the world a better place and he threw me in here just like you."

"I'm sure he had no idea-"

"He knew Meg, he knew what would happen. I know they don't give a quote-un-quote criminal a chance to defend themselves. Especially one as strong as you."

"I'm not a criminal!"

"What did you do to those people, huh? Did you steal their money?"

"It wasn't like that!"

"Batman saw the signs, he knew you were talented and powerful and he tricked you into turning yourself in."

"He wouldn't."

"But he did. He was afraid. Just like the people of Gotham were afraid of me. They don't comprehend what's unique or different. They want to change us so we're all the same. Constantly putting the little guy down!"

"Stop! You're the one that's evil! Batman, h-he was j-just trying to-" Meg can't continue, she starts to sob.

"_Batman doesn't understand_

_He can never see_

_The beauty that you possess and_

_What you are to me." _The Meister's words are soothing and with her guard down, Meg falls into a trance. She picks up the melody.

"_I know it's wrong to say_

_But your words ring true_

_The Batman has betrayed me_

_Like you would never do."_ Smiling, Meister sings once more.

"_Do you trust me, do you dare?_

_After all the pain you've been through?_

_From this point on, love I swear_

_I would never hurt you."_ The two perfect voices harmonize on top of each other.

"_No more hurt, no more pain_

_Only voices intertwined_

_And our music shall live again_

_If only for tonight." _The song concludes and Meg attempts to shake herself from her reverie.

"Hey, Meister?" she calls softly. He smiles and nods his head in return, "do you think, since I only have six more days left, would you teach me to sing like you?" his face breaks into a toothy grin, showing off the gap between his two front teeth.

"It would be my pleasure." Meg smiles back dreamily as an echoey voice asks her if she's just hypnotized or in love. She lies down on her bed, finding she really needs sleep, but raises her head to ask one final question.

"Meister? Do you have a name?" she can practically hear his smile.

"Just call me Bertrand." Meg's head has already lolled to the side. Bertrand grins and lies down on his own bed, happy to have found a kindred spirit at last.


	5. Chapter 5

Batman sits in the Bat Cave, deep in thought. Robin enters, carrying two cups of steaming hot liquid. Batman glances up from where he had been reading the same line of the newspaper over and over.

"Coffee?" he asks.

"No, hot chocolate; thought it might cheer you up."

"Hot chocolate is for children," says the Dark Night. Still, that smell… He takes the mug from Robin and settles back into his seat.

"So, are we off fighting crime tonight?" asks the Boy Wonder.

"Got no calls."

"So, what're you doing?"

"Thinking."

"About Meg?" Batman nods.

"It's too bad; she really did have a nice voice."

"Maybe it doesn't have to be this way."

"Come on, it's impossible. Those lawyer-types are about as lenient as a metal pole."

"There's still more I could try. I could write a letter, get one of my lawyers on the case-"

"Is it really worth it? I mean, Meg seemed nice and all, but she's dangerous. From what you've told me about the Music Meister, he was a bad dude."

"But she isn't. She has her own story and her own path. Maybe the hands of fate just need a little slap on the wrist." Robin smiles at the joke, but returns to his serious tone.

"Why don't you go see what she wants? Batman hasn't really explained why he never came back for her."

"It'll never work. Batman showing up at Arkham without a baddie in hand will attract the press and the attention of the prisoners. And if there's one thing I don't want to do, it's get into a fight with the Joker while he's still sour from our last little encounter. No, Batman can't talk to Meg, but maybe Bruce can."

"Come on, she almost murdered you last time she saw you. I'm sure she wouldn't mind finishing the job."

"I trust the girl. I'll call Bobby down at Arkham right now and schedule a meeting for tomorrow morning."

"She's a 'notorious mind-controlling maniac' remember?" says Robin, pointing to the scattered sheets of newspaper on the table, "Better be stealthy." Batman downs the last of his hot chocolate and walks over to the phone to call Bobby. As he dials the number, he reminds himself that he's calling as Bruce Wayne: concerned father figure, not Batman. After a few rings, Bobby picks up.

"Hello?" he sounds a bit tired.

"Hi, Bobby? It's Bruce. Wayne. Listen, I need to schedule a meeting tomorrow with a new patient-"

"Bruce, you got any idea what time it is?" asks Bobby. Confused, Bruce glances at his watch to see it reads two a.m.

"Sorry, I guess I'm an early riser."

"Try freaking Dracula, bud. Now, what can I do ya for? Sorry, I got crazies left and right and it's getting hard to hear."

"A meeting with a young patient, her name is Meg and she was admitted yesterday around seven p.m."

"Well, I can get you in in the afternoon. That's all though, that's the only time we've got an escort available."

"Well, I don't know if I need an escort-"

"Of course you do. I don't trust those two freaks as far as I can throw 'em." Bruce laughs at the joke although inside his heart breaks a little. He thanks Bobby and hangs up the phone. Pensive, he walks back to the table where Robin is trying to get the marshmallows out of the bottom of his mug. He looks up.

"Any luck?"

"Yes. I'm due to see her tomorrow afternoon. After the way Bobby and those guards treated her, I just hope she's ready to see me."

Hey, not part of the fic here. Sorry. I'm not certain if all of my Batman mythology is correct. Feel free to correct me on my Robin/Batman situation. Then again, this whole thing is just for fun so take all I write with the knowledge that in my fantasies, anything is possible. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Meg wakes the next morning to Bertrand's soft voice through the air vent.

"_Good morning starshine, _

_The earth says hello." _

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" she groans.

"No, do you?" Meg searches for her watch but to no avail. They had stripped her of any and all technological devices. She sits up groggily and sees Bertrand standing in the center of his room smiling. "Are you ready to sing?"

"Do you always sing first thing in the morning?"

"Not really. Only when the universe demands it."

"I'm pretty sure the universe demands Meg gets a couple more hours of sleep," she says, lying back down.

"_Rise,"_ commands the Meister, all friendliness gone from his voice. It wakes Meg immediately and she stands bolt-upright. "Now, let's try this again. Are you ready to sing?"

"Yes," responds Meg robotically.

"Good. Do you know your highest note?"

"Shouldn't I warm up a bit first-?"

"I said; _do you know it_?"

"No I don't. Bertrand, please, don't try to control me, I want to-"

"_Sing,"_ he commands on a perfect D. Meg lets out a strangled whimper as part of her mind beats against his voice while the other struggles to obey. _"Sing,"_ he says again. This time, she complies and a string of music, like spider's silk, streams from her mouth, pure and raw. The Meister raises his hand, encouraging her to go higher. Inside, a voice in Meg's head exclaims; "I've never been this high, keep going, never before, how can he, keep going, higher!" Finally, she runs out of air and the sound stops. Bertrand smiles through the window. "Well done. You're an excellent pupil Meg."

"I'm sure I could be just as good without you inside my head."

"Have you ever sung so high before? Do you think you could have managed it without my help? I'm not trying to control you, Meg, just give you a little push. We'll keep working on that note and soon, you'll reach it easily."

"Bertrand, you're supposed to be evil. Why are you helping me?" he turns to look at Meg and ponders the question.

"I recognize talent when I see it and I would hate to see it go to waste."

"It's already a waste! My voice will be gone in five days, so preserving it isn't a good enough reason. Why are you helping me?" she repeats. Bertrand sits down on his bed and stares at the ground.

"I-I don't know," he stammers, "I've spent so much time alone that, maybe I just need a project to give me hope. Hope for a new life. It's too bad, really. I'm doomed to waste in this cell and nobody will ever hear my music. Or yours. We have so much to give, Meg. So very much." Meg walks up to the glass and places her hand on it.

"I swear, while my voice remains, neither of us will be alone." With an uncharacteristically small and genuine smile, Bertrand places his hand on his window as well. "Now, where were we?" asks Meg.

"Let's keep working on your upper register. And your ab support. Remember to drop and lift." Meg nods and files each bit of information away in her memory banks, all while smiling at the man just across the aisle, so close but so far away. What does his hair feel like? Are his eyes really that brilliant shade of green? What would it be like to hug him close or even to kiss him? Are his lips as sweet as the melodies that ride upon them? Meg shakes herself free of these thoughts and returns to the lesson, ashamed. This is an older, sophisticated man with oodles of talent and charm. He's untouchable. But even if Meg could break the barrier between them, what would such a man want with a street urchin like herself?


	7. Chapter 7

**Before this chapter starts, I would just like to thank all the people who are reading this fanfic and I hope you're enjoying it. Please, give me feedback, critiques, corrections, anything to make this better. Thanks a lot and lots of love!**

"_She sings a song of sadness_

_Sings a song of sorrow_

_But in her heart, there lies gladness_

_For her hope in tomorrow,"_ Meg finishes two octaves above middle c on what had previously been her highest note.

"You see? The more you support the sound and project it forward, the easier the high notes come," Bertrand says with a smile. They have worked all morning at expanding Meg's range and she's exhausted.

"Isn't it lunch time yet?" she asks, "I'm starving." Bertrand looks at his wrist as if willing a watch to appear. Meg snickers.

"Feels like lunchtime to me," he says. The two sit down on their beds awkwardly. After a minute, a guard slides a tray of food under each of the doors.

"Hey, you were right," says Meg, "so, what kind of food do they have here?"

"2 square meals of mystery meat and some kind of gray vegetable every day," replies Bertrand.

"Yum."

"So, Meg, how old are you? What's your favorite color? What kind of books do you like?"

"Whoa, slow down. Why do you want to know all that?"

"If we're going to work together, we have to get to know each other. Plus, I'm curious."

"Okay. I'm seventeen, favorite color is pink and I like old classic books when I can get my hands on them. Now it's your turn, same questions."

"I'm turning twenty soon, favorite color is purple. Maybe green. It varies. Favorite books are science fiction."

"Oh. I've never really been able to get into the whole alien, space stuff."

"That's not all there is. If things were different, perhaps I could show you some of mine."

"I'd like that."

"Alright, more questions. Most exciting place you've been to?"

"I think Gotham takes the cake. Up until the whole imprisonment debacle, I was getting some good business, seeing the sights, meeting the interesting people. You?"

"I've never really left Gotham. I grew up here and when I turned fifteen, moved into an old abandoned theater."

"What was your family like?" asks Meg, sniffing the "vegetable." A pained expression crosses Bertrand's face. Meg catches it and quickly adds: "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. Really."

"No, it's fine. My parents were complete opposites. Mom was musical and free-spirited while dad was tight as a drum. My mom died when I was five. Dad really didn't understand me the way she did. He got laid off from his jobs, lost our house, became an alcoholic and h-he… he would get mad sometimes. Really, really mad and call me names because I was sensitive an-and he would hurt me." Bertrand struggles to keep his expression calm and the tears out of his eyes.

"Bertrand, I'm so-"

"It's fine. Really. When I turned eleven, I finally found my strength. It didn't matter if I was a wimp or a fag or a l-l-loser. I could make them do anything, make him do anything, and he n-never hit me again." He looks up at Meg. "Say something," he says imploringly. "Say something damnit! You think I'm pathetic too, don't you? Don't you?"

"No! I-I understand. Bert, I understand far too well. I know what it means to be abused. I was never good enough for my parents. They never wanted me, I was an accident and they couldn't stand to even look at me. When I was ten, they took me to the seashore for a picnic, left to get ice cream and never came back. I waited there for six hours, and then walked to the nearest town 10 miles away. When I got there, I started singing on the street to provide for myself. I knew my parents wouldn't try to find me; they never wanted me in the first place. So I moved from town to town trying to stay safe. People seemed to love my music and love me and it was the greatest feeling. Then Batman-"

"I know Meg. I understand," Bertrand says sympathetically. Meg wipes her now moist eyes and places her tray on the floor.

"It was never me they loved. I made them care, forced them. It wasn't right."

"But it felt good didn't it? To have that love for a while."

"But it was fake! Everything I've done for myself is a lie! I'm a lie."

"No you're not. You have a power and you have control. You can make sure that nobody ever leaves you again."

"What about when it's gone? I only just discovered this, and my whole life, I could have kept my parents with me, could have been happy and warm and now they'll take it away. Right now, my voice, my music is the only thing I have."

"Meg, look at me," says Bertrand. Meg complies, now not bothering to hide her tears, "do you want to keep your voice?"

"Yes, more than anything."

"If I save it, will you promise me that you'll stay by my side forever?"

"I-I will. But I need to know;" Meg takes a breath, preparing to ask the question that had burned in her mind for the past day, "do you love me? Or is what you said yesterday just some manipulative bullshit to keep me in line? If I stay, will I be your friend, sidekick, lover, partner, slave?"

"Meg, everything I've told you has been the absolute truth. I care for you more than any person in the world right now. I feel as if I've known you forever and I want you to be everything you can. If you'll be mine, I'll help you." With that, Bertrand stands and places his hand on the glass. Meg hesitates and chews her lower lip thoughtfully. Bertrand's face begins to cave inward as he starts to think that maybe she doesn't love him back. Then, as he's about to pull away, Meg fans out her fingers and places her hand directly opposite Bertrand's.

"_I love you,"_ she sings.

"_I love you too,"_ comes the response. The two stare at each other, unaware of what should come next when a guard steps in between them. He pushes the button on the outer wall so his voice might come through the tiny, tinny speaker next to the window.

"Miss Meg, you have a visitor. Please attach these to your wrists and prepare to be taken to a secure meeting location." A pair of handcuffs slides under the doorway. Meg glances past the stone-faced guard to Bertrand, questioning whether to comply. He nods approvingly and gives a look that says "soon, but not today." She closes the cuffs around her wrist and waits for the guard to open the door. Two others wait on the other side and the three escort her down the hallway. Tentatively, she hums a G only to be shocked by a Taser by the guard behind her.

"No funny business," he says gruffly. Then, she notices the earplugs they all wear. Each one trademarked with Batman insignia. Meg almost laughs. "Try his best" her ass! That conniving bastard would get what was coming to him, voice or no voice.


	8. Chapter 8

Bruce Wayne waits patiently in the meeting room and casually glances at his watch. Meg should be arriving soon. In the fifteen minutes he's waited, he has noted the surveillance camera (a rather crappy one probably purchased for this meeting and sans microphone), a lock on the table top to prevent any rowdiness and one sad, generic painting of a field of clover attempting to brighten up the room. Aside from those three somewhat interesting characteristics, the room is completely bare. No books, magazines or other pictures on the wall, once again reinforcing his belief that the room is meant solely for the purpose of his meeting.

Bruce glances at his watch a second time as the door opens. Meg is shoved inside and, alarmingly, looks much worse for wear. Her brown hair lies dull and grimy around her pale face, her eyes seem red and swollen as if she'd been crying recently and her hands look cold and clammy and, try as she may, she cannot stop them from shaking. Still, she strides in confidently and sits down opposite Bruce. One of the guards locks her set of handcuffs in to the tabletop lock and proceeds to stand beside the door.

"How are you doing?" asks Bruce quietly.

"Why, Mr. Wayne, I'm just fantastic. Have you ever stayed in a mental asylum overnight? I assure you it's lovely. I mean, really, it's fine for me since I can't hear a damn thing, just my own heartbeat and the drip of my toilet's leaky pipes. If I flush it one more time, I think it might explode."

"Please Meg, stop joking around." Her face grows darker, older.

"Oh, I'm not joking Mr. Wayne. All I have is silence around me and that silence is my future. There's no point in speaking to myself or singing because nobody can hear me. So I remain silent and pray that some night, it will envelope me in an inky blackness."

"Stop it Meg. Just stop and listen to me. You-" Bruce stops mid-sentence, remembering the guard. "Could we have a minute here?" the guard moves to protest but Bruce points discreetly at his ear. The guard nods and exits, leaving the two of them alone.

"You've got them too huh? Fearing I'll make you do something silly like jumping around like a puppet? Well, that's impossible since you're one already."

"Meg, listen, I had no idea-"

"Sure you didn't. Bruce, you let them play me. I mean, you could've just told me 'Meg, you're a threat to society and they're going to take away your livelihood' or maybe you could have just left me alone."

"It's not like that-"

"Interesting thing about this anklet, besides keeping up with my prison-chic outfit, it also alerts the guards if I try to sing. If the serum doesn't knock me out, they sure as hell will. But frankly, I'd rather be anywhere but here with you. Say what you want to say or I bring them running and your time's wasted." Bruce looks at her calmly.

"How's the Music Meister doing?" he asks. The color drains from Meg's face. She struggles to maintain a cool air.

"He's not the greatest looker if you know what I mean."

"I know you've talked to him. He's smart; he would've found a way around that soundproof glass. You two are the only ones in that section so he was bound to be curious. What did he say?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Meg lies through her teeth.

"Have you heard his voice? Pretty nice, huh?"

"Stop it. I haven't heard him say a word."

"What'd he say about Batman? Did he try to get you on his side?"

"I haven't heard a damn thing!"

"Meg," Bruce drops the detective act and places his hand over hers. She tries to pull away but the cuffs keep her hand right where he wants it. "The Meister is evil. He'll say whatever he wants in order to be on top. If you let him in-"

"He'll betray me and leave me to the wolves? Sorry, but I guess he can't do worse than you and Batman already have." She tries to stand and ends up kicking her chair over, "Listen Bruce, you've done your part in this, just let the chips fall where they may and leave me be. Get out of my life and maybe you'll avoid the crossfire when all is said and done."

"Meg, sit down, what do you mean 'crossfire'?"

"Wouldn't you like to know!" she laughs, yanking harder on her cuffs. The door bursts open as two guards grab the sixteen year old girl.

"Wait!" cries Bruce as they drag her down the hallway. A third guard steps into the room before he can run out.

"Don't worry Mr. Wayne, she'll be given a sedative and taken back to her cell." Bruce nods, absently, his mind racing.

"Did you hear any of our conversation?" he asks.

"No sir, Bobby Reich told us to respect any and all of your orders."

"Good, good. I'll be on my way then," he says. Bruce navigates his way down the hallway to the exit and steps out into the sunshine. "Crossfire," he mumbles.


	9. Chapter 9

Bertrand watches as Meg's limp body is tossed onto her bed.

"What happened?" he mutters. He slams his fist on the glass, wanting to go to her. The guards ignore his pounding and lock her cell door. When he's sure they're gone, Bertrand calls out to her. "Are you okay? Meg, what happened?" She begins to stir in her bed. He hears a faint groan through his air vent. "Meg?" she sits up, holding her face in her hand.

"Ugh, I feel like I was run over by a truck."

"You were gone for a long time. What happened?

"You'll never guess who decided to come visit," she says, "Bruce Wayne."

"Who?"

"Corporate puppet that pretended to help me in my court case."

"Oh."

"He tried to warn me about you, said you'd lie and manipulate anyone to get what you want. I told him he was insane." Bertrand smiles and runs a hand through his hair thinking: _She learns fast. _

"So what happened next?" he asks.

"Those damn guards dragged me off and shot me up with some freaking trippy sedatives. I guess I never quieted down, I don't know but I just remember more shots and then waking up here," Meg smiles, embarrassed. "How long was I gone?"

"You left after lunch and missed dinner so, they really must have knocked you out. You fought hard." She grins again, happy for his approving tone. "I'm proud." Meg's face falls as she remembers the rest of her encounter.

"Bertrand, I-I'm scared. Those guards, they don't feel bad for me, they barely even fear me anymore, just want me destroyed. I could feel it inside them, like I could just probe their mind's a little, almost- No, it's too hard to explain." Bertrand is intrigued; _Can it be true? _He wonders.

"Try."

"It's like when I sing, my mind just kind of floats. But when I was right beside them, I went to that place without singing and I could just feel their thoughts, barely. They wanted me dead, Bertrand." Meg stares at him, "Why do they hate me?" Bertrand's heart soars. This was so much better than he could have hoped for.

"Meg, I must explain something to you, something I never thought possible. When I sing to someone to, well, for lack of a better word, control them, I connect with them mentally. I'm not sure how it works exactly but I maintain a connection with them even when I'm not singing to them directly. That's what makes me unique in my role. But you, you have that power as well. You can control on a psychic level as well as with your, if I may say, beautiful voice. When I met you, I knew, I knew you were special."

"Am I really that much like you?"

"Don't try to tell me you don't feel it too." Meg thinks for a moment.

"I guess I do. But how can you control me but I can't control you?"

"I have more experience. Then again, have you really tried to control me?"

"No! I wouldn't dream of it, what if something bad happened?"

"Try Meg. I need to know if what you say is true."

"Well, okay. Anything in particular?"

"Whatever is in your heart," responds Bertrand preparing himself. In her head, Meg thinks up a slow and simple tune.

_"Pushed aside by the ones I love_

_And even those I despise._

_They took away my livelihood_

_And covered me with lies._

_I was lost, I was scared _

_But I found joy within the one I cherish_

_And he won't ever leave me till I die. _

_He showed me a power I didn't know I had,_

_Showed a song that the two of us can sing._

_And I hold inspiration in the palm of my hand_

_And I know, till I die, he'll always love me." _ Although her lyrics seem a bit forced, Bertrand feels the melody's pull. Her voice is truly entrancing and brings a smile to his face. He feels her trying to connect with him and take over, but she is still a bit weak. He can only barely hear her melody. While she sings, he speaks over her.

"Try harder! Make me obey you. Force me, don't just poke, shove!" Meg scowls at him, but closes her eyes and concentrates, the tune changing to a faster, rock beat. Meg belts out her anger.

_"I have nothing more to say_

_Why do you push me anyways?_

_Am I just a puppet in your game?_

_When do I get my chance at fame?" _her final note hits Bertrand perfectly and he feels his mind go numb. It's not a bad feeling at all. His mind goes blank and Meg gasps, nearly losing her grip as she slips inside. "Bertrand?" she says quietly. Thinking fast, she sings out. _"Answer me Bertrand," _comes the new melody.

_"Yes, Meg, I answer to you," _he responds. Meg suppresses a giggle at his expression, serenely calm, eyes glazed over. Staying inside his mind, she raises her hand. His body does the same. He was right; she didn't need to sing to be in control. She could make him do anything. A-and, she likes it. She likes being in control. But it's a frightening control, if she makes a mistake, anything could happen. Realizing the danger, she pulls out, gasping for air. Bertrand does the same.

"I don't know if I can do that again," she says.

"No, that was outstanding. Meg, you're so much more powerful than you realize. And we can use that to our advantage. We have five days until your operation, right?" Meg nods. "Get out your paper, we have preparations to make."


	10. Chapter 10

The morning of the operation, Meg wakes up unnaturally early to the sound of something coming through the slot in her door. She stands up and walks over to find a sheet of paper. Picking it up, she reads the short paragraph.

**Prisoner #6902,**

**Arkham Asylum would like to thank you for your cooperation throughout the duration of your stay. **

**Transport time to the hospital: 7:00pm tonight**

**Operation time: 8:00pm tonight.**

**Thank you for staying at Arkham. **

Meg finishes reading and calls out to Bertrand.

"Hey, wake up."

"Already up," he replies, standing.

"Did you sleep?" asks Meg, seeing his pale face.

"Not really. I've been working."

"I got a letter. From them. We've got till seven."

"Great. You should start warming up." Meg nods and closes the vent above her bed. She has gotten stronger and she can't risk anything happening to Bertrand. He on the other hand, continues to scribble on his pad of paper, making a list of steps for their escape.

Meanwhile, across the city Batman crouches high above the sleeping metropolis. A few cars roll down the roads far below. The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon. Batman's mind wanders past his latest battle with the Joker to Meg. If he's not mistaken, today is her operation day. Why had she been so angry with him? No, he understands, he just hates that someone so young can be so full of spite. He wonders whether he should try to talk to her again. No, that might just add to her anger. Still, she probably won't be happier when she has no voice. He should try to talk to her before she leaves for the hospital. Steeling his resolve, he opens his cape out into a glider and jumps off the side of the building, pointing himself home.

Hours later, Meg and Bertrand receive their lunch. As the tray slides through the slot, each of them slips a chicken bone from last night's dinner in the crack.

"So, assuming its noon exactly, we have until one-thirty before the next patrol," says Bertrand, standing.

"I'm nervous. Can this really work?"

"I'm sure of it."

"Why haven't you tried it before?"

"Oh, I have. I escape all the time."

"So, why'd you stick around this long?" Meg asks.

"I need to make sure you get out with me."

"Really? You just knew I was worth sticking around for?"

"I guess I was just a bit curious."

"So, what happens when we get out?"

"We'll go back to my home, I'll get us some decent clothes to blend in and then," he winks mischievously, "I'll take you out to dinner." Meg smiles, still a bit nervous.

"I'm still scared."

"You can take them. We can take them. And then we'll make them pay."

"I'm still not sure how I feel about that. Not everyone has done us wrong."

"But they will if we don't take control. It's the only way." Meg sighs and runs a hand through her hair.

"Okay, I'll trust you on this."

"Really?" he says, somewhat surprised.

"I made a promise. I will stand by you no matter what," The Meister smiles happily.

"You might be the first person who legitimately trusts me. This will work. And then we can be together." He places a hand on the glass, now a ritual between them. Meg does the same.


	11. Chapter 11

**(Hey everyone! I am so sorry I haven't been writing lately, I've been really busy at school and I just couldn't find the time to upload any more of my story. Also, thank you so much for reading and I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's probably my favorite so far. I know my lyric writing isn't the best, so be nice!)**

At twelve thirty, a group of guards enter Meg's cell.

"What's the big idea?" she cries only to be sedated by one of them holding a large syringe. "Man, what the hell-?" she mumbles. Then her eyes glaze over and she is taken to the interview room once more. Bruce Wayne is already waiting. "Oh, hey!" she says, "Whassup?"

"Meg, I heard today was your operation day. I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"You know, you've got a lot of balls coming to see me again. Especially today."

"Meg, please don't do anything stupid. If you try to break out, I can't help you and you will be brought to justice."

"Justice, schmustice. I won't try anything Brucie, I'm reformed," she giggles, "I'll be more than happy to live out the rest of my life in my cell. Alone. Forever. Or, maybe when I'm a mute, they'll let me out of my cage right?"

"You'll be fine."

"Hey Bruce, you know anything about Batman?" asks Meg drowsily. He pauses.

"Not formally. I know he's done some helpful things for Gotham City though."

"Well, if you see him, could you give him a message from me?" Bruce just stares at her. "Tell him it's too late. There's no way to save me now. I'll see you later Mr. Wayne. I have a date tonight." She turns and waves to the camera behind her. Four guards enter and take her out of the room. Bruce Wayne stands to leave, straightening his tie.

_Maybe it`s not too late, _he thinks, leaving.

Meg is thrown back into her cell.

"A little respect would be nice!" she shouts to the door as it slams shut.

"Are you alright?" asks Bertrand through the grate.

"Huh? Oh, fine. I just need a minute to shake this drug out of my system."

"Does it hurt?"

"Huh?" Meg shakes her head, no, "It's fine. Don't worry. I'll be ready by the time the patrol comes. I swear, Bertrand."

"I hope so," he mutters under his breath. He turns to face the wall behind him and grimaces anxiously.

"I will. I promise I will make you proud," she smiles. Bertrand turns to face her, smiling as well.

"I'm already proud." With that, the two sit silently on their beds and wait for the patrol.

One-thirty PM: Meg and Bertrand wait anxiously in their cells for the regular guard to pass by. Within seconds, he does and Bertrand nods subtly to Meg who, checking to make sure both of their door slots are wedged open, cries out in pain and crashes against the glass. The guard spins around, confused, not really thinking of how he could hear the prisoner in the soundproof room.

"Help me!" she screams. She falls to the ground and begins to spasm uncontrollably. The guard peers through the window, shocked, then shakily removes the key ring from his belt and opens the door.

"Are you alright?" he asks, rushing to crouch by her side as a strange fog creeps into his mind. Meg stops thrashing and grabs the guard's belt, throwing the Taser across the floor.

"Never better," she replies. She quickly removes the bat-plugs from his ears and rolls across the floor.

"What the-?" the guard murmurs. Then he stops as he hears Bertrand's voice bot through the vent and across the hall.

"_They thought that they could hold us_

_They thought we'd just stay still_

_It's time to show they can't control us,_

_This time, it's all real." _The guard's eyes glaze over as he falls under the Meister's spell. Meg joins in on the second verse and picks up the Taser.

"_So stand up boy and help to make_

_A brand new start for us,_

_Everything is about to change _

_Let him out, it's time for our success." _The guard stands and dances to Bertrand's door, key in hand, and opens it with a flourish. Bertrand hops out and takes Meg by the hand.

"Ready?" he whispers.

"Ready," she nods. The three run down the hallway into the normal section of the Asylum where there is no soundproof glass to stop them.

"_We need people to bust us out_

_It's a jailbreak. Jailbreak. _

_If you're ready to move and go all-out_

_Come on, jailbreak. Jailbreak." _The guard opens several cells with his key and some of Gotham's finest leap out and join the growing chorus. "_Jailbreak, jailbreak."_ Meg glances down an adjoining hallway to see a group of guards barreling towards them. She pokes Bertrand in the ribs.

"_Take them down!" _he belts over the chorus. The villains leap on top of the guards, overpowering them immediately. The earplugs are soon ripped from their ears and handed to Bertrand. The newly hypnotized guards begin opening cells as well, all the while singing. "_Jailbreak, jailbreak." _The horde grows larger and larger as they draw nearer to the exit. All guards attempting to stop them are subdued and turned. As the huge group of dancing villains and guards exit the Asylum, Meg and Bertrand fall back into the crowd. They flood the streets, terrifying the innocent citizens. Their cover works perfectly as Meg and Bertrand slip down an alleyway away from the throng. Without orders, the horde begins to wake from their trance. Quickly, the former inmates flee the scene and the guards try their best without weapons to apprehend them.

"That was incredible!" cries Meg as soon as they are a few blocks away. Bertrand grins at her.

"You did well," he says, then adds slyly; "for a rookie." Meg punches him playfully.

"You jerk!" she laughs, "Okay, okay, where to now?"

"Now, to my home. I think you'll really like it." The pair rounds a corner and Bertrand makes a large sweeping gesture to the run-down building. Meg smiles and they walk along the sidewalk as nonchalantly as possible before ducking into the dusty entryway. At first, it is nothing impressive, an old lobby, covered in grime. Bertrand takes Meg by the arm and leads her into the theater. She gasps with shock.

The theater is large and grand with brass accents and long, red, velvet curtains. Hundreds of seats surround a large, rounded stage containing a piano and a pipe organ. Meg, who had only seen a theater once, was blown away. "What do you think?" asks Bertrand.

"It's amazing," she says, walking down the aisle to the stage. "I mean it, I just, wow." she turns to smile at Bertrand.

"That's not even the best part," he says, taking her by the hand and leading her up the stage. He pulls her to the center and she gazes out at the empty seats. "Picture it: standing here, singing, the entire world watching, just you and me." she turns to face him. "We could be together forever you know."

"I know. I promised."

"But if you hadn't promised, would you still stay?" Meg bites her lower lip in thought. Bertrand takes her chin in his hand gently and pulls her face towards his. She closes her eyes and kisses him willingly. And they stand like that, holding each other for a while before coming apart. "How about now?" asks Bertrand softly. Meg looks into his eyes, expecting to feel pulled, controlled. Instead, all she sees is genuine concern and hope.

"Yes," she replies. Bertrand grins happily like a little boy and pulls her by the hand back stage where he obviously lives. A room with a gold star on the doorway is obviously his bedroom several others are full of various devices, props and costumes. Bertrand pulls a rack from one of the rooms and takes off a hanger with a black suit and powdered white shirt.

"I'm going to change," he says excitedly, "pick out whatever you want and meet me on the stage in ten minutes." He hurries to his room, humming happily. Meg, dazzled, opens one of the doors to see a huge array of gowns and suits. For a girl who had never really had much else than a sweater and a pair of jeans, this was a treat. She begins pulling dresses off hangers and placing them in front of her, trying to decide which would be best. A new dress and a first kiss all in one night? It seemed too good to be true. Finally, Meg decides on a long, flowing, elegant, pink summer gown. She grabs a brush from a shelf and combs out her tangled mess of brown hair. She looks at herself in a body mirror and pulls her hair back into a bun. She manages to find a pink rose accent for her hair and neatly tucks it behind her ear. She also finds a pair of white dress shoes and slips them on. Looking at herself one final time, she leaves the room, flicking the light switch on her way out. Nervously, she walks onto the stage. Bertrand is already waiting at the piano. When he sees her, he stands and she sees his suit, his beautifully combed orange hair, and his startling green eyes. "You look gorgeous," he says. He blushes and looks away, "Ah yes, well, it's still a bit early for dinner so I thought I might give you a little more of a tour." He extends an arm and Meg blushes slightly as she takes it.

The two look in several of the backstage rooms and Bertrand shows Meg to one of her very own.

"I've never had my own room before," she says, "Hell, I've never had my own bed before."

"We can paint it if you like, and decorate it. Anything, as long as you're comfortable." He shows her the washroom, the other storerooms ("You can have any clothes you want,") and finally takes her upstairs to the balcony. They look down at the stage. "Sometimes it's nice to sit up here and just rest. You can see everything and just let your mind wander. Do you like it so far?"

"I really do," Meg replies, "I've only ever been in a theater once. I snuck inside one during a performance of Phantom of the Opera. They kicked me out before I could see the end." She smiles at Bertrand who lowers his head in thought. "What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing," he straightens up, "I'm just trying to think of something we can do before dinner."

"Could we try out that organ?" asks Meg. Bertrand stands, offering a hand.

"I thought you'd never ask." The two hurry downstairs, Meg trying diligently not to trip over her dress. Within minutes, they are sitting on the bench in front of the organ. Bertrand places both hands over the keyboards. Then, with a strong, firm motion, presses down to form a clean chord. The sound fills the theater. He moves to another, and then another, each one complementing the last, each filled with contrast and notes that should never be put together. But under his masterful hands, the chords bend into beautiful music. Soon, he begins a melody in the higher register, hand flying up and down the keys. Meg slips off the bench and stands back, staring in awe at the maestro. The piece reaches a climax, a tenseness that wrenches Meg's heart, and Bertrand stands suddenly, knocking the bench backwards. Then, impossibly, he slows the melody and the chord progression and finishes softly. The air still seems to ring with the sound and Meg stands immobile until it has completely dissipated. Bertrand turns slowly towards her. "Well?" he asks, anxiously. Meg steps over the bench and hugs the musician.

"You are the most beautiful man I have ever met," she says, looking up at him. She pushes forward, kissing him hard, passionately. At first, Bertrand is surprised. But as realization floods through him, the realization that someone actually loves him, he kisses her back. And for once in both their lives, everything is perfect.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey all, sorry for the wait. You know how it is, school, life, all that jazz. But here is chapter 12! Thank you all for reading my story, it really means a lot. **

Meg and Bertrand walk down the sidewalk holding hands. Each looking and feeling radiant, they step inside a large and elegant restaurant. Bertrand leads Meg to the hostess stand.

"Hello and welcome to 'La Chambre Rose,'" the hostess smiles warmly, "do you have a reservation?" Bertrand motions for Meg to wait and leans in close to the hostess, whispering something in her ear. He pulls away and she nods, picking up two menus and leading them into the dining room.

"What did you say to her?" asks Meg.

"I just gave her a little, well, incentive to seat us," he chuckles. Meg opens her mouth to say something only to be kissed quickly by Bertrand. "Please, it's just one night. Let's have a little fun." They sit at a booth in the far corner of the restaurant next to a large aquarium full of tropical fish. "This is lovely," says Bertrand.

"Yes it is," agrees Meg, with only a sliver of doubt in her mind. She looks down at the menu on the table and nearly gasps out loud. "These are kind of expensive aren't they?" she asks, pointing to a fifty dollar steak dinner.

"Don't worry, pet. It's my treat," replies Bertrand, patting her hand. The doubt in Meg's mind begins to grow. Within a few minutes, a waiter arrives with a tag saying Tyler.

"Hello, my name is Ty and I'll be your server tonight. Is there anything I can get for you to drink?"

"I'll have a martini please, and one for the lady," says Bertrand. Ty looks at Meg sceptically.

"Restaurant policy, sorry, but can I see some identification?" Meg's blood runs cold for a moment. What was Bertrand doing? They could get thrown out. She sees Bertrand lean towards Tyler and stares into his eyes. Meg looks away but can still here the softly sung words. When she looks back, Ty is gone and Bertrand is just smiling at her.

"Do you have to do this?" she asks.

"Yes," he answers. Meg opens her mouth to speak but her eye is caught by a new patron entering the restaurant.

"Shit."

"What's wrong?" asks Bertrand, turning around.

"Bruce, fucking Wayne. He's here!" she whispers urgently, crouching down in her chair as Bruce is seated at a table. "He saw me at the asylum earlier and told me if I tried to break out, he would just send me back."

"Really?"

"Well not in those words exactly, but that was the vibe I got. Oh god I have to get out of here!" She begins looking for a nearby exit. The only possibilities are the front door and the kitchen.

"Don't panic. I'll distract them while you sneak around the other side of the restaurant to the front."

"What if he-?"

"He's never seen me before. Now wait till I give you the high sign." With that, Bertrand walks over to the table.

Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson look over their menus thoughtfully.

"Bruce, everything here is pretty expensive. Are you sure you don't just want to go out for burgers or something?"

"I'm sure. You deserve something special after that science exam, Mister 100 percent." Dick smiles as Bruce pats him on the shoulder. Before he can say anything, they are approached by a young man in a suit.

"Hello Mr. Wayne, my name is Bert Warner," Bertrand extends a hand. Bruce stands and shakes it, all the while thinking of how familiar the man seems.

"Pleasure to meet you sir. This here is my ward, Dick Grayson," says Bruce, patting Dick on the shoulder. Dick stands to shake Bertrand's hand. "Is there something I might help you with?"

"I just wanted to buy a drink for such a famous person. It would be an honor. Garcon!" he waves his hand in the air. Seeing the signal, Meg stands and quickly walks towards the exit.

"That's very kind of you Mr. Warner, but I don't drink, and Dick here is a bit too young." Bertrand glances back at his table to make sure Meg has left.

"Ah, too bad. Well sir, it was nice to finally meet you. Goodbye." With that, Bertrand walks towards the exit, leaving Bruce and Dick slightly baffled.

"That was weird," remarks Dick.

"Very," Bruce agrees, "tell me, did that man seem familiar to you?"

"Nope. Why?"

"No reason, he just reminds me of someone I met a while back."

Outside the restaurant, Bertrand searches for Meg only to find her waiting in the alley next to the restaurant. Save for couple of waiters having a cigarette at the far end, they are alone.

"What happened?" asks Meg as Bertrand approaches her.

"I offered to buy him a drink, he declined, I saw that you had left, and then I left as well. Nothing too exciting." Meg sighs with relief.

"Great. Let's go home," she says.

"But we haven't even had dinner," Bertrand protests.

"I'm not really in the mood for anything right now." Bertrand nods and they begin to walk back to the theater.

"So, what would you like to do tomorrow? We could decorate your new room, or go to the park, or-"

"Bertrand," she interrupts, "I just want to spend some time with you. I want to hang out, you know, like friends. I never get to just be with someone. Without worrying about my next meal, or where I have to go, or what I have to do next. Just be."

"Yeah, we can do that," says Bertrand softly, opening the door of the theater. Meg turns and smiles at him.

"Maybe we can watch a movie or something! I haven't seen a movie since I was a kid." Bertrand enters the lobby with her.

"Whatever you want," he says softly. They stand for a moment, staring at each other. Meg looks away, blushing. Then, quickly and without hesitation, kisses Bertrand's lips and pulls away. They stare at each other awkwardly now, neither one knowing what to do.

"Um, well, goodnight," says Meg before hurrying to the stage. Bertrand just stands in the lobby and chuckles to himself. He turns around to lock the door when he is knocked backwards by none-other than Batman. Lightning-fast, the Dark Knight picks Bertrand up by the collar and holds him against the wall.

"Where is she?" he hisses.

"H-how did you find me?"

"Answer me! Where is the girl?"

"Why do you care? You don't give a damn about her!"

"I want to help her you singing idiot!"

"Ah, ah, ah," says Bertrand pulling a remote from his suit pocket. "One more word and I will kill her where she stands. I have rigged her room with explosives underneath the floorboards and could easily blow her to pieces."

"What? She's your protégé!"

"Sometimes, sacrifices must be made for the greater good," Bertrand bluffs. "Now, back away and let's talk like civilized people." Batman, not wanting even the slightest chance of danger, backs away from the Meister. "Oh dear, it seems you've caught me without my mask. Listen, why don't we make it even? Take yours off. Now." Batman takes a step backwards. "Do you want her to die?" asks Bertrand, stepping towards him. "Take it off."

"Bertrand?" asks a voice from the theater doorway. The Meister spins around.

"Meg, no!" Batman leaps on top of him, wrestling away the remote. Confused, Meg backs against the wall. Batman holds Bertrand to the ground as he opens the back of the remote.

"No batteries. I knew you wouldn't kill her."

"What?" Meg cries.

"Get out!" screams Bertrand, struggling to throw Batman off. Thinking fast, Meg grabs a dusty lamp from a nearby table. Closing her eyes, she brings it down swiftly on the back of Batman's head. She hears grunt from the Dark Knight and opens her eyes to see Bertrand pushing him off. "Good job," he says panting.

"What the hell happened?"

"He just barged in and attacked me. He was looking for you."

"What did he say about you killing me?"

"I had to bluff my way out. I told him if he didn't back off, I would blow you up."

"What? You just-?" she sighs to calm herself down. "Okay, what do we do now?"

"Is he dead?" asks Bertrand, eyeing the body. Meg steps over to where Batman lays and places a finger on his neck to check for a pulse.

"No, he's still alive," Meg steps away and stares at Batman, deep in thought. She looks up when she hears the _swick _of a pocket knife being pulled out. "What are you doing?" she cries.

"We have to kill him. He knows where we are."

"D-don't you think he would have called backup? Everyone probably knows where we are. A-and there has to be a better way to get rid of him. Please, I hate seeing bloodshed." Bertrand nods and puts his knife in his pocket.

"If you think you're right, you get rid of him, and make sure he never finds us again." Meg nods. Bertrand walks to a nearby closet and takes out a small, two-wheeled bicycle looking similar to two eighth-notes. "Use this to take him away, but bring it back. I suppose I'll start packing."

"Packing?"

"Well we obviously can't stay here. If there is even the slightest chance that someone knows your location, we can't stay. So, be back soon and then we'll leave." Meg struggles to get the thought of her new home being taken away into her head and chokes back her tears, instead, focusing on getting Batman on top of the bike. Bertrand tosses her some rope before heading into the theater. Securing the large man's body with the rope, Meg wheels the bike outside. Thankfully, there are not many people out at such a late hour. Thinking of her location, Meg wanders down the street towards the river. She stops by a handrail and viewing platform.

"I'm sorry Batman," she says softly, "I guess I'm just a lost cause." She unties the rope binding him and, using all her strength, manages to lean him onto the railing. "Goodbye." With that, Meg pushes the limp body over the edge, sending the Dark Knight into the waters below. Unable to watch, Meg begins to wheel the bicycle back to the theater, never noticing a faint second splash below.


End file.
